Forever ago, when I was young and dorky and in college, I worked at the local ice cream shop, slinging ice cream to pay the rent.
It wasn’t glamorous, like working at The Buckle. OMG! All the cool girls worked at The Buckle. Ice cream work, that was not as enjoyable as working retail. You were literally up to your elbows in freezer cases all day. One arm had a weirdly-larger bicep than the other, from the scooping. You smelled like sour milk when you got home. And sometimes if you were extra-special dorky, you trip over your own two feet while trying to give a customer their to-go order and SPRAIN YOUR ANKLE RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY GOD YES THAT WAS ME. No wonder The Buckle never hired me.
Anyway, it was there at that very ice cream store that I met a boy. A quiet, sweet boy with the green eyes, who had one heck of a charming smile.
And I married him.
Happy wedding anniversary, handsome man. Thanks for smiling at that klutzy dork from the ice cream store.